


Colour My Soul (And I'll Make You Complete)

by sakurahaiku



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Drunk Making Out, M/M, Misunderstandings, Slight themes of bullying, The slightest of sexual themes but it's so tiny, no beta we die like men, slight themes of homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:48:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26150632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakurahaiku/pseuds/sakurahaiku
Summary: They had been looking for a mark that was small, no bigger than a human palm. The truth is even more startling then the location. The discolouration had been difficult to find not because it was too small, but because it was too large. It would be obvious, and the fear of the child’s future self-consciousness started to creep into the parents.They named their son Seoho. The boy smiled as he was placed back into his mother’s arms. His face was clear and glorious. His little hands would one day grasp at the world.(Soulmate AU, where a part of your body is pitch black until your soulmate touches it, turning it into a cacophony of colours)
Relationships: Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Son Dongju | Xion, Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Lee Seoho, Lee Keonhee/Yeo Hwanwoong, Lee Seoho/Lee Keonhee (Past)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 128





	Colour My Soul (And I'll Make You Complete)

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to a fic that is way too long that I worked way too hard on. 
> 
> All parts in italics are flashbacks to the past, except when it's clear that it's a text message.
> 
> EDIT: Fixed some spelling mistakes. When I looked at this on mobile it was all so clear but now I can't find them. If there's a super glaring one please let me know. 
> 
> Also, another quick note, drinking age where I am is 18 and you start high school at around age 15 in the 10th grade, so we're going with that
> 
> EDIT 2: Fixed a plot hole. My God I need an editor.

_The child is born, an easy birth. It’s a little boy, swaddled up quickly and placed into his mother’s arms. She coos, eyes full of love for the little newborn. The boy’s father wipes away tears; there is no stronger emotion than the love you feel when you first gaze upon your child. The infant is cleaned, and the doctors check over the vitals of the boy. He’s healthy, a relief for his parents._

_The doctor looks over the infant for the traces of a soulmate mark. It will be a few days before the mark turns completely black, but discoloured skin should still be visible. The boy is handed to the nurses to help with the inspection. The parents watch, wide eyed and curious. The mark shows where their son will first be touched by his soulmate. One day, should the fates play their hands kindly, the black mark will burst with every colour of the rainbow from the first brush of contact._

_The doctor looks over the most obvious places first. The palm of the right hand, where the boy’s parents each have blooming colour where they once had black, is the most common and is indicative of a handshake. The child’s hand is clear, and so is the left one. The shoulders are also free of discolouration, and the face is perfect porcelain. The parents share a worried look; would their child be one of the few unlucky individuals without a mark? The doctor carefully checks each body part for even the smallest sign of a mark._

_The situation feels hopeless, and the mother begins to sob. The father is holding her in a tight embrace, and he’s watching the doctor and the nurses intensely, waiting. The doctor turns the baby over and examines the back, and his face falls._

_“I found the mark,” the doctor tells the parents, to their relief, “But it’s far from ideal,”_

_They had been looking for a mark that was small, no bigger than a human palm. The truth is even more startling then the location. The discolouration had been difficult to find not because it was too small, but because it was too large. It would be obvious, and the fear of the child’s future self-consciousness started to creep into the parents._

_They named their son Seoho. The boy smiled as he was placed back into his mother’s arms. His face was clear and glorious. His little hands would one day grasp at the world._

_And in a few days his entire back would be as black as night, as if he had been burned and charred by destiny._

* * *

Seoho pulled his shirt over his head, hair still wet from the shower he had just taken. It was going to be a warm day, and Seoho debated just leaving his outfit as is. He was already wearing shorts, and with a t-shirt he would be innocuous, he would look normal. The he turned around and could see the depressing black seep through the thin material of his shirt. Hesitating slightly due to the intense heat coming through the window, Seoho threw a hoodie over his shirt. His back was now completely covered, and he felt more secure going out for the day.

As he walked outside, he could feel his sweat pooling immediately on his skin. It was an unfortunate side effect of covering up so heavily. Seoho wanted desperately to take off the hoodie, no one would notice, no one would care. Then he pushed the thought from his mind; the black would be even more noticeable in the light of day. He couldn’t risk it. The boy sighed and continued walking.

As he walked, he observed people. It had been a pastime since childhood; he would look at people and imagine who they were. He knew that he was likely to be wrong, but it was interesting to conceive who someone may be from their outward appearance. Someone’s clothes and makeup and friends could say more about a person than one could guess.

There was a woman walking ahead of him. A businesswoman, Seoho could easily tell, with her high heels clacking sharply against the pavement. Modestly dressed, the skirt was black and went past her knees. Her blazer was a muted pastel blue; fashionable, she presented well against the monochrome of the city. She was talking harshly to someone on her cell phone, though her words were quiet and Seoho couldn’t quite make out the conversation. He concluded she must be an upper manager in one of the towering buildings, likely something in fashion and culture. Maybe she was an important editor for one of the many fashion magazines that were circulated. Seoho decided he liked that life for her and focused his attention elsewhere.

Continuing down the street, he passed a construction worker emerging from a coffee shop. Some people were too easy to read. The man was clearly blue collar, if his bright orange safety vest was any indication. He wasn’t a foreman or anyone of note; those individuals usually wore a button-down shirt under their vests, but this man wore a t-shirt. He probably had a family at home to feed, considering his older age. The coffee in his hand implied he was on his break. The time was just about ten in the morning, so Seoho supposed the timing worked at well for the man to have finished several hours of work.

Other people made Seoho sad. He was standing and waiting for a crossing light next to the patio of a restaurant when he saw them. It was a young couple, his age or younger, gigging and smiling as they looked at each other. Two boys, he could see the rainbows that had blossomed on their hands. Clearly, they met during a handshake, like most soulmate pairs. They probably met at a university party or class, Seoho thought. The idea made him bitter; he was happy to keep walking and put the duo behind him.

He kept walking towards the train station near his apartment. He was already running behind to meet Keonhee at the library. If he kept wondering about every person he was bound to get distracted. Bound to feel depressed. He didn’t want to be upset by the time he met up with his best friend. Thinking about colourful soulmate marks was a sure way to sour his mood. He made it to the entrance of the train, and descended downwards into the underground station alongside the hordes of people coming in from the street.

It was going to be a busy commute, Seoho quickly realized, as he looked over the packed platform. Seoho could feel his body tense up. This meant that someone was going to be pressed into him, or he was going to be pressed into another person. Seoho was very careful about who could enter his personal space, even more particular about who could touch him, so the idea of a stranger entering his bubble made him feel nauseous. He was already behind though, so he would have to suck it up for the fifteen minutes it would take him to get to the university, to the library, to the safety that Keonhee provided.

He shuffled onto the train, and immediately realized that he was going to be crushed into the stomach of who appeared to be a student. Seoho caught a glimpse of the boy walking forward. Casually dressed, but fashionable. Ripped jeans and a black shirt, a simple but expensive pair of runners on his feet. There’s a snapback on his head, but it’s a fancy kind, made out of some sort of fake leather. Before Seoho gets trapped next to the boy stomach to stomach, he quickly turns around. He flinches as he feels the stranger against his back, but the feeling becomes even more uncomfortable as he is further squished by the others coming on after him.

Seoho is especially careful about his back. The black mark that covers his back haunts him daily. One day it will erupt into bountiful colours once he meets the person who will complete his soul. He has the mark so it’s an inevitability at this point. When he was younger he used to imagine how it would happen. He would imagine a lavish first date, and the colours would bloom as his soulmate would hug him from behind, looking at the stars. It was a romantic idea, sure, but he wanted nothing less.

His back, however, was also the cause of so much anxiety. Even though soulmate marks were respected, his was so odd, so specific, so large, that it caused people to stare. Caused his classmates to laugh at him during his childhood. When he added that onto his anxiety about having his first encounter with his soulmate being perfect, his back gave him more stress than anything else.

And it didn’t help that a stranger’s chest was pressed flush against it due to the hustle and bustle of public transport.

Fifteen minutes passed, and Seoho was finally able to escape the horror of the train. He could feel the young student get off too, which made sense since they were at the university. The boy was trailing close behind him; it was a busy stop and Seoho couldn’t quite escape the swarm of people just yet. He felt someone bump into him, and on instinct turned to look,

“Sorry,” it was the boy whom he had just spent fifteen minutes uncomfortably pressed against. Seoho caught the glimpse of an apologetic smile, eyes hidden by the brim of his hat. His heart faltered momentarily, and he moved forward once more. Keonhee was waiting for him.

* * *

_“Why is your back like that?” the little girl asked on the playground._

_“It’s my soulmate mark,” a five-year old Seoho answered back, “It means someone is gonna love me some day,”_

_“It’s ugly,” the girl responded, “Mine’s pretty. Look. Look,” and she showed her arm, thrusting it out towards Seoho. There, surrounding her wrist like a bracelet was the black stain of a soulmate mark. “I’m gonna have a rainbow bracelet one day, like a princess,”_

_“Mine’s not ugly,” Seoho doubled down, “Who wants a stupid bracelet anyways?” The girl burst into tears, drawing the attention of the other kindergartners and the teacher. The teacher ran over, quick to comfort the girl._

_“What happened?” the little girl sobbed harder,_

_“S-Seoho called my m-mark s-s-stupid,” the answer came through choked out sobs. The teacher turned to look at Seoho. The boy stood there, close to tears himself. He could feel the chastising stare of the teacher boring into him._

_“Now Seoho,” the teacher’s voice was firm but soft, “You know it’s not nice to say mean words like that. Can you apologize?”_

_“But, but,” Seoho couldn’t help the stutter, or the tears coming out of his eyes, “She called my mark ugly,” the little girl sobbed harder at that, furiously shaking her head._

_“Is that true?” the teacher asked the little girl, who stuttered out a denial through tears._

_“Seoho, it’s not nice to make stuff up. Would you please apologize?” Seoho turned to look at the girl. He felt scared and hurt. He didn’t understand why it had to be like this._

_“Sorry,” he says, and the teacher puts a hand on his shoulder.  
  
_

_“There. Now we’re all friends again,” the teacher turns and leads Seoho away. He turns back to look at the girl. She sticks her tongue out at him. He doesn’t know the word yet, but it feels like betrayal to Seoho._

* * *

He makes it to the library, late and out of breath. He spots Keonhee easily, the other tall enough to stand out in a crowd even when sitting at a table. Seoho weaves through the studying students at desks and takes his place across from Keonhee. His friend clearly hadn’t spotted him coming in, and he startles.

“Don’t do that,” Keonhee clutches at his heart, exhaling in relief, “Anyways, you’re late,”

“I know, I know,” Seoho laughs, “Let’s get to work?” Keonhee dramatically drapes himself across the books and papers in front of him, letting out a chocked sob that attracts the attention of others around them.

“I just don’t know what I’m doing,” the younger cries. Seoho laughs; he’s used to these antics from Keonhee.

“Let me look at it before we get kicked out,” Seoho grabs the papers from Keonhee. The younger had to satisfy some science credits in order to graduate, and Keonhee was struggling. The boy was intelligent but he just wasn’t someone who took to earth sciences easily. Seoho chuckled; the course was touted as the easiest science for arts major but there was always someone who found it difficult. It just so happens that Keonhee was that student this semester. “How behind are you?”

“I’m not behind,” Keonhee whined, “I just don’t know what I’m doing,”

“Then let’s fix that,” Seoho chose a topic to start with, something simple but integral to the course. He began mapping out in the simplest terms for Keonhee, giving ample opportunity for his friend to ask questions. He had taken this course a few years back, so Seoho could remember the basics and everything else came back to him as he explained the concepts. Keonhee nodded his head along, and Seoho could see the gears turning in the other’s brain as he tried to understand every year.

Seoho softly smiled at Keonhee. The other was two years younger, but they had become best friends nonetheless. Growing up they lived up on the same floor of an apartment building. They were close enough in age that their parents decided they would be playmates. Seoho can vividly remember Keonhee’s first day of kindergarten. Keonhee still lived in that apartment, with his parents and sisters, but Seoho had moved out on his own years ago. They always made time for each other though.

When Seoho was a young teenager he used to wish that Keonhee would just be his soulmate. He didn’t think he had a crush, per se, but he didn’t think he would ever have such an easy connection with someone else. Keonhee understood him intrinsically, and Seoho could understand him in turn. That result would have been too easy, however, and life seemed determined to make Seoho struggle. Keonhee’s right hand remained black as tar, waiting for the right person to shake his hand.

Seoho loved the kid though, and never wanted to leave him behind. That’s how Seoho found himself in the library on a Saturday, tutoring his friend. He’d do anything for Keonhee, and knew it would be returned. Just because they weren’t soulmates doesn’t mean that they can’t be together forever. The friendship and connection were too easy not to put in the effort to maintain anyways.

They spent hours like this, teaching and learning, until Keonhee’s stomach rumbled loudly and they decided to get lunch. It was a beautiful day outside and they decided to get their lunch and make a picnic of it. They shot the breeze as they stood in line for their burgers, and they made their way to a secluded part of the campus quad. Seoho pressed his back against a tree, and Keonhee laughed.

“No one’s here you know, you can take off that hoodie now,”

“Are you sure it’s safe?”

“You look ridiculous with it on. Just take it off,” Seoho took a quick look around. The quad wasn’t crowded, and even then the only people walking around were in too much of a rush to pay any attention to them. Seoho breathed out a sigh of relief. With another look around, listening to Keonhee’s insistence, he pulled the hoodie up and over his head. He immediately felt better with the heavy material off of him.

“I don’t know why you bother hiding it,” Keonhee had bits of burger in his mouth, “Everyone has a mark,”

“No one has a mark like mine,”

“At least yours is understandable. It’s a hundred times better than the people who have a mark that clearly screams ‘I’m gonna get punched out by my soulmate’, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I guess,” and Seoho resumed eating his burger. They sat in comfortable silence, the sign of a strong and stable friendship. Occasionally they would discuss classes and futures, but for the most part they allowed themselves to be quiet. Keonhee had just finished eating his burger when he leaned over and brushed a bug off of Seoho’s shoulder. Seoho could feel the fabric of his t-shirt move, but he wasn’t too concerned; Keonhee had seen his back many times.

Keonhee’s breath hitched, and he moved to pull the shirt away from Seoho’s back further. Seoho choked out a sign of surprise and concern. Keonhee leaned back and looked him right in the eyes.

“Seoho,” Keonhee seemed frantic, in a quiet way, “Did something happen?”

“No?” Seoho hadn’t meant for it to come out as a question, but it did anyways.

“Your back is a rainbow, Seoho,”

“No, it isn’t,” Seoho could feel panic rising up his chest. The only event that had been any different in comparison was the fact that he had been pressed back-to-chest with a random guy on the train.

Seoho felt like he was malfunctioning.

“Keonhee,” Seoho tried to keep his voice stable, “Can you take a picture?” Seoho’s hands trembled as he passed his phone into Keonhee’s grasp. He felt Keonhee pull up his shirt, baring his back to the elements. He couldn’t breathe as he heard the familiar click of the shutter on the camera app. His shirt hit his skin once more, and he took his phone back from Keonhee.

Keonhee put his arm around him, a head on his shoulder, as Seoho stared at the photo on his phone.

“No,” he could hear the stutter in his voice, “No, no, no, no,”

* * *

_They’re fourteen and sixteen when Keonhee first brings it up. Seoho is on the floor of the younger’s room, Keonhee is on his bed._

_“Hey,” Keonhee is shy, “What if we we’re soulmates?” Seoho looks up, he’s had this thought before._

_“Well,” he doesn’t look at Keonhee, “I think it would be very unlikely for us to find out after all this time. Also, our marks don’t really match up at all,”_

_“Can’t I try?”_

_“Yeah, sure. Why not?” Seoho exhales, “Don’t get your hopes up though,” Keonhee slides off the bed, and goes to move next to Seoho._

_“If this works,” Keonhee is rambling in the dramatic way that he does, “We can never take it back,”_

_“Well, yeah,” Seoho is exasperated, “That’s how soulmates work. Just get it over with, Keonhee, so we don’t ever have to think about this again,”_

_“Are you getting shy?” Keonhee teasingly wags his eyebrows at Seoho, “Do you want me to be your soulmate so badly?”_

_“Just do it, Keonhee,” Seoho can feel the flush on his face growing hotter by the second. Keonhee raises his hand, and gently goes to touch Seoho’s back. He’s treating the experiment like something sacred, like it’s a religious ritual. Seoho can feel the heat of Keonhee through his shirt. The hand is held in place for a few seconds, before Keonhee gently lifts it. Seoho feels his shirt get pulled away from his skin, as Keonhee checks for the results._

_“Damn,” the younger swears softly under his breath._

_“Told you,”_

_“Does the touch work if there’s clothes in between?”_

_“Yeah, I think so. It’s what they teach you in health class anyways.”_

_“I’m going to put my hand under your shirt though, just in case,” Seoho sputters and turns to look at Keonhee,”_

_“Like hell you are –” but Seoho is interrupted by a warm hand on his bare skin. Keonhee lifts his hand away from Seoho, checks his handiwork once again._

_“That didn’t work either,”_

_“I told you, idiot,” Seoho hopes he sounds smug and above it all._

_He had really hoped it would work, despite the odds. Being soulmates with Keonhee was the best-case scenario for him. Now that he had his confirmation, he didn’t know what he would do._

* * *

Seoho arrived back at his apartment and immediately threw off his hoodie and his shirt. They lay in a pile by his front door, he’d have to remember to pick them up later. He ran into his bedroom and flew in front of his mirror, trying his best to see the current condition of his back. When he saw it, he could feel himself losing his breath. Keonhee’s picture didn’t do it justice. Seoho couldn’t see every inch of the full painting on his back, but he could see enough.

It was a colour splash. There was no pattern for where the colours lay on his skin. The blues contrasted with the yellows. The reds were vibrant against the paleness of his back. Oranges and purples intermingled with each other. The colour seemed to dance on his skin. Seoho knew that this should be a happy moment for him; finally, the black mar that had plagued him his whole life was gone. He knew that and yet he could feel nothing but sadness, anxiety, and despair.

Sadness, because he didn’t get his moment. He wanted the blooming of his soul mark to be earthshattering and glorious. He wanted fireworks, emotional ones at the very least. He wanted the butterflies in his stomach to be the same colour as the painting on his back. He wanted to feel secure in someone’s arms as he could feel the binding of two spirits together. This was hollow, desolate, and Seoho couldn’t feel any glee in this moment.

Anxiety, because now he was going to have to explain to people how it happened. If someone saw the specks of colour creeping up his neck they would ask questions. Sure, he could brush strangers off, but he couldn’t do that to people he knew. What if his parents asked questions? Classmates? Other people he knew? How could he possibly justify lying and avoiding the truth to all those people? The idea made his head pound and his breath hitch.

Despair, because it was entirely likely that he would never see his soulmate again. It wasn’t unheard of; soulmates could accidentally touch and not see one another for years, decades, lifetimes. The thought broke Seoho through to his core. How could he ever have the romance he deserved if there was no guarantee that he would ever see his soulmate again? He could always date someone who had lost their soulmate, but as long as the possibility of finding his person existed, he couldn’t do that to another person. The anguish was suffocating him.

Seoho began to panic, to hyperventilate. He could see his vision grow blurry, and he was feeling dizzy and unstable. He wobbled over to his bed, feeling blindly for his blankets and pillows. He was already short of breath when his face collided with his pillow, his body growing lax and numb. He felt weightless, in a way that felt constricting and terrifying. All he wanted was for his old normal to come back. He wanted to be the person he was a few hours ago again.

His pillow started to feel damp and Seoho realized that he was crying. It wasn’t like him to cry, or to panic, but there was no one to see him in his misery. So, he allowed himself to cry. He cried for the disappearance of his soulmate. He cried for the fact that he was denied the romance he thought everyone deserved. He cried for the innocence he had mere hours ago.

He cried for himself.

* * *

_They were eighteen and sixteen, having a sleepover on the first night Seoho moved out from his family home. He had wanted to space to study and had desired his independence. Seoho was grateful that his parents had agreed, and were in a position to help him until he got more on his feet. It was a new adventure, now that he was an adult, and he was exciting and terrifying all at the same time._

_He didn’t have any furniture yet, so he and Keonhee were sharing an air mattress on the floor of what would be Seoho’s bedroom. There was something incredibly comforting about having his younger best friend tucked into his side, despite being significantly taller. As exciting of a development as this was for him, Seoho was still scared and nervous. He had never truly been alone before. Keonhee’s presence was soothing, and he was grateful for it._

_They had gone to bed hours ago, but Seoho couldn’t sleep. He felt on edge, like he was about to make or break his entire life. Keonhee, on the other hand, was sleeping peacefully. His breath felt hot against the skin of Seoho’s neck. It was intimate in a way that scared Seoho. There was a part of him that wanted to have every night like this, and that part scared Seoho._

_They weren’t soulmates, they had figured that out only a few years before, but the writing had always been on the wall. If they were soulmates they would have burst into colour during early childhood and their marks never matched up. Seoho had spent too long wishing that he had his mark on his hand, so that he had the excuse to hold Keonhee’s. Wished that Keonhee had his mark on his chest, so Seoho could allow himself to be hugged that way. It was never meant to be, however, and Seoho cursed the universe that placed something so beautiful in front of him that he could never have._

_He positioned himself so that his head rested on top of Keonhee’s. The younger shifted in his sleep, but didn’t wake up. Seoho had to fight the urge to pull Keonhee flush against his chest and just hold him. He would never be able to do that. He ghosted his lips against the crown of Keonhee’s head, weightless._

_“I wish you were able to be mine,” he whispered into the darkness, into the stray strands of Keonhee’s hair._

* * *

Seoho had to return to normal, somehow, and that meant going to class. He dreaded it. All he wanted to do was lay in bed for hours on end. He no longer felt like himself. He felt like an intruder in his own body. Seoho could list all the people he would disappoint and anger by not going to class, and he knew that he had to stand up and face the world again.

It was even hotter that day than it had been a few days earlier, and Seoho knew that he couldn’t get away with wearing a hoodie without experiencing heat stroke. As he stared at the hoodies hanging in his closet he felt sorely tempted though. He turned around to see how visible his soulmate mark was under his shirt, and he was surprised to find that the colours were well hidden. Somehow, he was less exposed then before.

He left the house and went on his way to the university, taking his usual route. Normally, he would play his game of figuring out who people are based on their appearances, and certainly any of the hundreds of people he was with on the street would have been adequate focuses, but his mind was too scattered. He tried to calm himself down as he made it to the train, and walked underground.

He hadn’t meant to, but Seoho scanned the area for the boy, his soulmate. Looked for someone dressed casually, yet was clearly stylish. Tried to find a soft, apologetic smile, with eyes hidden under the brim of a snapback. There was no one on the platform that made his heart lurch and stutter. He boarded the train, less crowded than before, and again he saw no sign of the boy. For the fifteen-minute train ride he waited to see if he would show up, but Seoho ended up departing the train feeling dejected.

His classes, when he was able to pay attention, were painfully boring. Midterm season was coming up, so many of his classes were focused on review. Seoho was a good student, he knew the material already. He wasn’t the type to skip class though, so he was essentially just sitting and existing; his mind wasn’t up for anything strenuous.

It was the final class of his day, however, when things took a more interesting turn. It was his literature class, an elective he needed to satisfy an arts credit. The subject matter wasn’t his cup of tea, but he enjoyed the mental break from the complicated math and science equations that he usually dealt with during the day. At any rate, he was actually decent at the subject, and looked forward to the easier end of day.

The professor was talking about their end of semester assignment, a partner project discussing two or more of the books from the semester and the themes that overlapped between them. Seoho wasn’t sure why it had to be a partner assignment, but he supposed he had no choice in the matter. He just hoped that his assigned partner wasn’t going to drag him down. Truthfully, since this class was just an elective, he hadn’t taken the time to properly meet any of his classmates. He was doubtful that he would ever have to interact with any of them again. And, since he was nearing the end of his university career, it felt a little late to befriend random individuals now.

The professor told them that their partner was listed on the online class portal, and Seoho wasted no time in checking the name. He logged in, and scrolled and clicked links until he found what he was looking for. He checked the name, ‘Kim Youngjo’, and moved to go email him. As he was opening up to write a new message, he received an email.

**FROM: Kim Youngjo**

**TO: Lee Seoho**

_Hey._

_I guess we’re partners. Let’s just get this done quickly. Can we meet after class?_

Seoho stared at the message. It was short and abrupt. Seoho appreciated it; he could tell that this guy wasn’t interested in making friends either. Vaguely listening to the professor drone on, Seoho drafted out his response.

**FROM: Lee Seoho**

**TO: Kim Youngjo**

_That’s fine with me. I’ll meet you after class. I’ll go stand by the water fountain._

Class ended and Seoho meandered over to the water fountain. There were a few other students there, but he decided just to wait there until the crowds dispersed.

“Seoho?” he heard someone ask. He was met with a bright smile and kind eyes. Seoho blinked in confusion a few times, before coming to his senses.

“Yeah, that’s me. And you’re Youngjo?” the other boy hummed happily as a response, extending his hand. Seoho reached to complete the handshake, noting that Youngjo didn’t seem to have a soulmate mark on his right hand. The other boy had large hands that enveloped Seoho’s. During their brief moment of touch Seoho was able to register that Youngjo was very, very handsome.

Which meant to Seoho, and in no uncertain terms, that he was fucked.

* * *

_“What kind of girl is going to touch your back like that,” the boy jeered at him. They were sitting in the cafeteria at their junior high. Seoho, now aged thirteen, knew that more questions about his back were going to be raised, but he wasn’t quite prepared for that particular question._

_“Could be giving her a piggy back,” Seoho shrugged, “Who even puts logic into soulmate marks anyways?”_

_“But it’s just so weird,” the boy whined back, “Why would your soulmate touch you like that as a first meeting?” Seoho shrugged again in response._

_“Dunno. I’ve been asking myself that question my entire life,”_

_“Weird,” the voice was a low whisper._

_“Could also be a boy,” another kid leaned into Seoho, “What are your thoughts about that, Seoho?” Seoho merely gave another shrug._

_“Could be a boy, I guess,”_

_“Do you want your soulmate to be a boy?”_

_“Well, I don’t have any control over it,”_

_“But do you want it to be a boy?” the question was more pressuring than before._

_“I don’t really care to be honest,” the other boys snickered._

_“So, you do want it to be a boy, then?”_

_“I just said I don’t care?” the atmosphere was intense around him, “I don’t know what you’re trying to do here,”_

_“Just making sure you’re exactly who I thought you were,”_

_“Okay?” Seoho was confused._

_“You know,” the boys stood up to leave, while Seoho stayed still on his seat, petrified, “Most normal boys don’t want another boy to be their soulmate,” One of the boys open up his water bottle and dumped it over Seoho’s head, “Guess you’re not normal, then,” The boys got up and walked away, and left Seoho soaking wet and humiliated. The surrounding students giggled and stared, and Seoho felt a wash of shame drape over him like a shadow._

* * *

As it turns out, Seoho got along with Youngjo incredibly well, He was surprised at how easy conversation came to them, and was equally surprised at how much he didn’t want those conversations to end. Over the years, Seoho had learned to push anyone who wasn’t Keonhee away. People were hurtful and mean, and Seoho was generally tired of dealing with that. There was something about Youngjo that felt different though. He felt genuine and kind, and Seoho wanted to keep him around forever.

There was also the small problem of how absolutely beautiful Youngjo was. How brilliant his smile was; how shiny his eyes were. Even his fashion sense was breathtaking to Seoho. Youngjo could wear a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and it looked like high fashion to him. Seoho knew he was developing what could be misconstrued as a crush on Youngjo, but he knew it was a hopeless thought. He had a soulmate, somewhere in the world, and it just wasn’t Youngjo. During their brief interaction, Seoho could feel the cold aura wafting off of his soulmate. His eyes had been hidden, the smile smaller. Youngjo radiated warmth and happiness and everything good in the world. Seoho knew that he wasn’t his soulmate, but he could pretend.

Like he had pretended Keonhee could somehow be his for years.

They finished their assignment quickly enough. Seoho was pleased to find that Youngjo was a diligent worker, and had done his half of the assignment with attention to detail and didn’t half-ass his portion. Their partnership had brought them to the end of the semester, and Seoho was dreading having to say goodbye.

He had learned that Youngjo was a year older than him, and had taken a year between high school and university. He had learned that Youngjo was majoring in music production, and seemed to be quite the musical talent himself. Once upon a time Seoho had been told that he was a talented singer; maybe if he told Youngjo that they could stay in contact? Seoho felt like he needed to say something to keep the potential friendship going but didn’t quite know how to do that.

They were sitting in the library studying for their finals together, when Youngjo got up and stretched.

“Hey, I’m going to go get a coffee. Do you want anything?” Seoho looked up at him. He did very much want a coffee, but he felt rude asking when they weren’t even officially friends yet.

“I’m good,” Youngjo looked at him questioningly, as if picking up on the lie. He shrugged, however, grabbed his wallet and walked away. Seoho continued studying for a few minutes, waiting for the older to come back. He was just getting absorbed into the material when a paper coffee cup was placed in front of him. He looked in front of him to see a coffee, looked up to see Youngjo drinking a different coffee, and looked back down at the coffee in front of him.

“I told you I didn’t want one?” The statement came out as a question. Seoho was confused. Confused as to why Youngjo would pick him up something in the first place.

“Yeah, you said you didn’t want anything, but your eyes told a different story,” Youngjo was laughing softly, “Your eyes were practically begging for some caffeine,” Seoho looked down again at the coffee in front of him, and slowly reached out so he could pick up the drink. He took a sip. It was slightly sweet, the flavour hit his tongue nicely and he felt refreshed immediately.

“How did you know I liked vanilla?”

“You didn’t seem like the type to want an overly sweet or overly bitter drink. So, I went for something in the middle,” Youngjo shrugged, not meeting Seoho’s eyes.

“Thanks,” Seoho smiled at Youngjo, who was already opening his books again. They studied there for several more hours, until both of them felt confident for the last of their finals. They both stood up and the same time and made their way out of the library together. To Seoho it all felt so natural, like the friendship between them was easy. He wished he got to keep it.

Seoho was heading towards the train and Youngjo to the student parking lot where his car was, and they parted ways half way. They turned to say goodbye to one another, and Seoho couldn’t help but notice that Youngjo looked a little sheepish.

“Listen, Seoho,” Youngjo stammered a bit, a slight blush creeping across his nose, “Can I have your phone number? I don’t want to have to email you every time I want to hang out,” Seoho looked at him, and he could feel his own blush involuntarily move across his cheeks;

“Yeah, of course,” he was trying to sound calm and cool and collected, but his voice was shaking as he recited his number to the older. Youngjo diligently typed each number into his phone, and seemed to send him a text when he was done, just to be certain. The two of them said their goodbyes, and as soon as Youngjo was out of view Seoho opened up his phone. Sure enough, there’s one new text message waiting for him.

**XXX-XXX-XXXX**

_Hey_

_This is Youngjo_

Well, it wasn’t the romantic text he was secretly hoping for, but, to Seoho, it represented the start of a whole new chapter in his life.

* * *

_Keonhee is fifteen and is stressing out about starting high school. Seoho is sitting in the younger boy’s room, trying to keep from laughing as the younger boy panicked. Keonhee has had a flair for dramatics ever since they were small children, and it never failed to amuse the older._

_“Seoho,” Keonhee nearly wailed, “Don’t laugh at me this is serious,”_

_“I’m not laughing,”_

_“Yes, you are,” Keonhee huffed, “And I’ll have you know that it’s incredibly rude,” Seoho sighed, looking up at the younger._

_“Listen, Keon, you have nothing to worry about. It’s no different than from going to junior high. You’re just older now,” Seoho tried to keep himself sounding as matter-as-fact as possible in an attempt to soothe Keonhee. The younger started to sob, and Seoho knew he had failed in his mission._

_“What if I can’t make any friends, Seoho? What if they all hate me?”_

_“They’re not going to hate you,” Seoho was starting to feel exasperated, like he was talking in circles, “There’s nothing about you to hate. Anyways, you can always hang out with me if you need to,” Seoho couldn’t see or hear Keonhee rolling his eyes, but he felt the motion in his bones._

_“Seoho, after this year you’re going to be graduating and I’ll be alone at school. I need to make new friends, somehow,”_

_“Don’t you have any friends going to that school?”_

_“I mean, I do.” Keonhee sounded evasive, “I just think it would be nice to make some new friends, that’s all,” Seoho turned to face Keonhee, worry etched into his face._

_“Keonhee, did something happen? Something you didn’t tell me?” Keonhee tried to look anywhere but Seoho, but the older knew that the younger couldn’t evade his eyes for long._

_“No,” Keonhee was on the defensive, “I mean, nothing important,”_

_“Keonhee,”_

_“It’s just,” the younger inhaled sharply, “They found out,”_

_“Found out what?”_

_“That I want my soulmate to be a boy,” Keonhee deflated, “I mean, I know I don’t really have a choice, but if I’m talking about what I want,” Keonhee couldn’t keep talking, tears welling up in his eyes. Seoho took his hand, the blackened one, into his and just held it. Seoho tried to memorize the shape and feel of Keonhee’s hand in his. If life was fair this could be one of many moments that they shared where the two of them could erupt into colour. Life, however, was a cruel mistress that kept the two of them apart._

_“It makes no sense,” Keonhee’s voice was small, “That it doesn’t matter if two boys become soulmates because they have no choice, but it matters if a boy wants his soulmate to also be a boy,”_

_“I know,” Seoho rubbed his thumb over the back of Keonhee’s hand, his unmarked palm pressed into the darkened skin of the other’s._

* * *

After the semester ended, Youngjo and Seoho stayed in contact, and the younger was happy for it. Seoho could feel himself falling for the older, despite his best efforts, and while this scared him it also excited him. His only true crush, though he tried to deny it, was Keonhee, and a relationship there was completely out of the question. This new attraction, however, was new and wonderful. It almost didn’t matter if Youngjo didn’t return his feelings; just having time with the other was enough for Seoho. This type of pining looked good on him, Seoho decided.

The only issue was his soulmate. Seoho was nowhere near figuring out who the boy from the train was. Youngjo’s presence sometimes drove the mystery man from his mind, but the man was omnipresent. Even when Seoho thought he had driven the other away, the thoughts would impede his sleep, waking him up way too early in the morning. Seoho wished he could will the thoughts away, but he knew that until he and his soulmate were united there would be no escaping his reality.

Truthfully, he hadn’t put much effort into finding his other half. Sometimes, he would stare wistfully in the train station, look too hard at other passengers. None seemed to be his soulmate. He had taken to imagining the lives of those he could see the soulmate mark on. The rainbow marks on a woman’s shoulder was from a passing brush in the crowd, never to be seen again. A black mark on a man’s forearm was the source of sadness, a touch he yearned for that never appeared.

Seoho felt the worst for older individuals whose marks stained their skin unclaimed, dark as night. Someone growing older without finding their soulmate seemed like the cruelest fate to Seoho; there was the loneliness, the constant anxiety of the question of ‘when’ and ‘how’. Were their other halves dead? Or would they show up as a deathbed nurse, providing light in their final moments? Seoho figured that his situation wasn’t any more ideal. He had come so close to his soulmate, had the artwork on his back to prove it, and yet he still wasn’t with them. Seoho had no idea when he would be safely in his soulmate’s arms, and the waiting was eating him up from the inside out.

For now, however, he was satisfied with texting Youngjo every day. Every time he woke up to a new text from the other he could feel a smile growing on his face. He hoped that the older was just as happy with receiving texts from him. The feeling was somewhat surreal, and Seoho tried not to think about the inevitable fallout he was bound to face. He wishes he knew where Youngjo’s soulmate mark was, just to see if he could cross him off as a potential candidate for his soulmate.

**Youngjo**

_So what are you doing today?_

**Seoho**

_Not much_

_Meeting with Keonhee_

**Youngjo**

_That’s your best friend right?????_

_It’s cute that you hang out so much_

**Seoho**

_Yeah I guess lmao_

_Aren’t friends supposed to hang out???_

**Youngjo**

_I mean yeah_

_We should hang soon_

_Tonight????_

**Seoho**

_Yeah I could do tonight probably_

_Depends on how needy Keonhee is_

_He sounded really serious when asking to meet me_

**Youngjo**

_Let me know!_

_Have fun with him_

**Seoho**

_He should be here soon_

_I’ll talk to you later_

Seoho sighed, he hated leaving Youngjo like that but he knew he couldn’t just ignore Keonhee. They were lifelong friends, and he couldn’t ignore that, no matter how cute Youngjo was. He was sitting on the patio of a café that they both liked, an iced vanilla latte sitting in front of him. Keonhee was running late, which was unusual for him. Generally speaking, Seoho was the perpetually late one in their friendship. Keonhee live being fifteen minutes early for every meeting, formal or not. He shot the younger a text filled with question marks and received no reply.

A few more minutes passed, and Seoho could see Keonhee in the crowd, lanky body towering over those around him. Keonhee came up to the side of the patio, next to Seoho and hands in his pockets, a smile on his face. Seoho knew the other well enough to see the trepidation and nervousness in Keonhee’s eyes. Seoho wondered what was wrong.

“Sorry I’m late,” Keonhee sounded breathless, “Got caught up on something. I’m just going to go grab a drink and I’ll be right back,” Seoho nodded in response, watching Keonhee’s back as he ran into the café. Judging from the frantic way that Keonhee wanted to meet up and the anxiety in his eyes, Seoho figured that something had well and truly rattled his friend. Seoho looked up again when Keonhee came back out with his drink, something sugary and light in colour. His left hand held the drink, his right hand was still firmly in his pocket.

Keonhee sat down, placing the sugary concoction in front of him, but he wasn’t drinking it. He kept his hands in his lap, and Seoho could see that his fidgeting. Seoho let Keonhee talk first, watching as his closest friend struggled with finding what exactly to say. He licked his lips a few times, stuttered over his introduction, until he found his stride.

“Seoho,” Keonhee finally said, “I need you to not freak out,”

“What happened,” Seoho stared straight ahead at Keonhee, “Why would I freak out?” Keonhee exhaled, shaky and unsure. His hands started fidgeting even more. Seoho swallowed air, anticipating what had always been inevitable in their friendship. Wordlessly, slowly, Keonhee presented his right palm to Seoho, a cacophony of colours splattered across it.

Silently, Seoho sat as Keonhee presented his story, unable to catch more than the broad details. He always knew that Keonhee would find his soulmate through a handshake, and that his soulmate would not be him. He caught the name ‘Hwanwoong’, and Seoho wondered about the other. Would he know how to correctly hold Keonhee? Would he know that Keonhee was easy to startle? Would he take advantage of that or proceed cautiously? Seoho wondered about what the other looked like, if he would complement Keonhee or not. Was he tall or short? Seoho just wanted to know that his best friend would be taken care of properly, because the person who would be taking care of Keonhee wasn’t going to be him.

Keonhee finished his drink and said his goodbyes, and Seoho was left there sitting with a half-finished iced vanilla latte sitting in front of him, more water now than coffee. He was happy for Keonhee, but this was a change he had always known would occur, though it was one he had never prepared himself for. Wordlessly, he pulled out his phone. He opened up the text conversation he wanted to continue, fingers trembling as he typed out each letter and word.

**Seoho**

_So_

_Still up for tonight?_

**Youngjo**

_Yeah_

_Yeah I am_

_Anything you want to do???_

**Seoho**

_If you don’t mind_

_I need to get fucking plastered tonight_

**Youngjo**

_Did something happen with Keonhee??_

**Seoho**

_Yeah_

_Something like that_

**Youngjo**

_Want to talk about it??_

**Seoho**

_I appreciate it Youngjo_

_But I just can’t right now_

_If you don’t want to drink that’s fine_

_I don’t wanna force you_

**Youngjo**

_No I’m down to go_

_Name the time and place_

_And I’ll be there_

**Seoho**

_Excellent_

* * *

_When Keonhee turned eighteen, Seoho was the one who took him to his first bar. The younger had never tried any alcohol before, and Seoho wanted to be the first one to see Keonhee drunk. They had taken their time to get ready, Keonhee waxing lyrical about how romantic it would be to meet his soulmate on his birthday. Seoho could only smile; he had thought the same thing many times before. Keonhee had forced some light makeup on Seoho, and the older found that he couldn’t resist. It was Keonhee’s birthday after all, and Seoho wanted to give him everything that he possibly could._

_They made it to the bar sometime after ten, and Seoho could see the stars shine in Keonhee’s eyes as he took in the scene. There was something magical about this experience to the younger, even though it was something mundane to Seoho. Keonhee, however, looked dazzling, and Seoho couldn’t keep his eyes away. He hoped the younger wouldn’t notice._

_They went in and began drinking. Seoho had wanted to start of slow, but Keonhee’s excitement got the best of both of them. It didn’t take long for them both to be well and truly drunk. They’re both swaying to the music, clinging onto one another, trying not to get hit by the other patrons. Keonhee looks longingly at the dance floor, then back at Seoho, and the older doesn’t have to be a genius to know what Keonhee wants. He’s not prepared for Keonhee to lean in close to his ears, however, and Seoho could feel his breath stop halfway up his throat._

_“Seoho,” Keonhee is practically shouting, “Let’s go dance. Seoho finds that there’s nothing he would rather do in that moment. So, he does what feels only natural: he grabs Keonhee’s hands and leads him to the dance floor. They’re only two bodies among countless others, and Seoho has to hold onto Keonhee in order to keep the other from disappearing into the sea of people. He’s aware of just how close they are to one another, how their chests keep rubbing against each other. It’s tantalizing, and Seoho has to remind his drunk mind that they’re not soulmates and that Keonhee doesn’t want what he wants. There’s couples and strangers around them making out, and Seoho wants nothing more than to pull Keonhee down and kiss him until he sees galaxies._

_They dance and they dance and they dance. People around them keep changing, but Seoho is only focusing on Keonhee. Their bodies grow closer, until Keonhee, void of all his inhibitions, just puts his arms around Seoho’s waist and draws him in impossibly close. Seoho doesn’t know how far gone Keonhee is, but he is drunk enough to justify throwing his arms around Keonhee’s neck, resting his nose against the sharp edge of the other’s collarbone._

_He can feel Keonhee’s face edge downwards, and Seoho inhales to look up at the other. He doesn’t really have time to rationalize it when Keonhee’s lips capture his. Seoho can feel himself hesitating, but Keonhee is surging forward, so Seoho meets him fully. They meld into one, and Seoho can taste the alcohol dripping from Keonhee’s mouth. He briefly wonders if he tastes just as intoxicating to the other. The kiss is deep, and Seoho allows Keonhee’s tongue to explore his mouth. The experience is mind blowing, and Seoho never wants it to end. He feels as if the answers to every question is right there, with him in Keonhee’s arms._

_The moment is long, but entirely too brief. The lights in the bar turn on and the patrons have to leave. Keonhee is stumbling, gripping onto Seoho like a lifeline. The older hails a taxi, and Seoho just knows that the driver thinks that they’re going home to hook up. He knows that they’re like two hormonal teenagers – and they are – draped all over one another in the back seat. Seoho also knows that this moment won’t last._

_They make it back to Seoho’s apartment, tripping over one another, and somehow make it into Seoho’s bed. They’ve shared a bed many times since their childhood, but Seoho can feel that the atmosphere is different. The knowledge that Keonhee could return his feelings, even just slightly, is overwhelming. Keonhee cuddles into Seoho, and it feels like the world is stopping for him. He falls asleep comfortably, but he knows that this isn’t a feeling he gets to keep._

_They wake up in the early afternoon, heads pounding. Keonhee looks over at Seoho, and the older is running through a million scenarios in his head._

_“Seoho,” Keonhee’s voice is hoarse, “Did we kiss last night?”_

_“Of course not,” Seoho tries to laugh it off, knows he has to break the illusion somehow._

_“I could swear we did,”_

_“You were really drunk last night, Keon. Your brain is all messed up,” Keonhee looks at Seoho, a mixture of confusion, betrayal, and sleepiness. The younger stands up and heads to the bathroom. Seoho hoped his heart wasn’t breaking as much as his was in that moment._

* * *

It’s a quarter past ten by the time Seoho makes it to the bar. Youngjo had already texted him to say that he’s inside, and Seoho was getting antsy. When he made it inside, finding Youngjo was easy. The older was clearly the best dressed person in the establishment, and the way he was leaning against a table was almost irresistible. Seoho walked forward, and Youngjo turned his head to look at him. The smile he received was breathtaking, blinding.

“Hey,” Youngjo’s voice was warm, loud due to the environment, “Are you feeling any better?”

“No,” Seoho smiled, but it felt hollow and empty, “I actually just feel like shit,”

“We’re here to fix that,” Youngjo smiled, and directed Seoho to the table behind them. There were two other boys sitting down at the table. Seoho nodded his head in greeting, and received two warm smiles back. “I hope you don’t mind that I invited them. I figured if the goal is to drink until we forget then we need more people,”

“No, I don’t mind,” Seoho laughed, “The more the merrier. I’m Seoho,” he extended his hand out towards the two boys. The taller of the two accepted it.

“I’m Dongju,” the shorter one replied, “This is my soul mate, Geonhak,” and the shorter started poking at Geonhak’s cheek, to which the taller rolled his eyes in response. Even in the dimly lit bar Seoho could see the soul mate marks adorning their arms, on Geonhak’s left and Dongju’s right. He decided that the two probably met by brushing up against each other. The thought of it was romantic.

Seoho stared at his two new companions, in what he hoped was a tasteful and not disconcerting matter. Geonhak was tall with bleached hair. One look at his stature at Seoho could tell that this was someone that worked out daily and did not take breaks. His eyes were kind, however, and Seoho figured he must be akin to a teddy bear in the relationship. Dongju was shorter, more angular. His eyes had a mischievous glint to them, telling Seoho that he was able to get Geonhak to give him what he wanted. He was fashionable and pretty, gold eyeshadow rimming his eyes.

Seoho didn’t have time to focus on them, because Youngjo had managed to disappear and come back with a round of shots. Seoho drank his back quickly, letting the alcohol burn his throat. The others took theirs as well, Geonhak giving a little cough. Seoho found it funny that a man as physically large as him would have issues drinking.

“So,” Youngjo leaned over the table to look at Seoho, “What happened with Keonhee that you need to get wasted tonight?” Seoho sighed, he knew going in that he wasn’t going to get through the evening without some explanation. Seoho flagged down a waitress, ordered another round. He was going to need more alcohol for this.

“Keonhee found his soulmate,” The others stared at him with a blank expression. He could hear the wheels inside their brains clearly. That’s why he wasn’t surprised when Dongju asked the most obvious question.

“Isn’t that supposed to be a good thing?”

“Yeah, it is. And I’m happy for him,” Seoho shrugged, “It’s just complicated, is all,”

“Did you think you were going to be his soulmate?” Geonhak asked.

“No,” the drinks arrived, and Seoho quickly drained his glass before continuing, “We’ve already been down that road. Tested it out and all. We’re not soulmates,”

“So why are you so sad?” Youngjo looked concerned. Seoho wanted him to reach across the table and hold his hand. He knew it wasn’t going to happen that way, but the yearning was still there.

“I wish I knew how to explain. Everything just feels weird,” Youngjo nodded. Dongju flagged down another waitress for some more shots. Seoho didn’t know what else to say, but the others were looking at him expectantly. “I’ve just known Keonhee forever. I know it’s his soulmate and all, but I’m the only one who knows how to take care of him,”

“His soulmate will learn,” Geonhak’s voice was comforting, “You just need to allow them time to adjust,”

“I just want Keonhee to be happy, that’s all,” Somehow, another drink had made its way in front of Seoho, and he drank it back quickly. It burned. Everything about this situation burned.

“Do you know what you need?” Dongju was leaning forward, a glint in his eye, “You need to dance,” Dongju was already standing up to drag Seoho away, Youngjo was laughing,

“Infallible logic, Dongju,” the boy just stuck his tongue out, grabbing Seoho by the hand. Youngjo got up to follow, Geonhak choosing to stay behind to guard the table. The night just flew from there. The three of them danced and drank and Seoho could feel his stress melting away. He hadn’t realized he had needed this. He laughed as Dongju flaunted his soulmate mark to every boy and girl who came up to flirt, was hyperaware of Youngjo standing close to his body.

Youngjo seemed to have his back, literally. The older was constantly next to him. A hand on his shoulder, on his waist. Seoho wasn’t sure if the heat in his face was a blush from Youngjo being ever present, or from the alcohol. At one point, Dongju had to send him away to get them more drinks. With Youngjo gone, Dongju draped himself over Seoho,

“Let him take you home,” the younger practically shouted in his ear, “He’s so into you that it’s disgusting,” Then Youngjo was back almost as quickly as he left, and Dongju winked as he sipped his drink. There was more dancing, and the alcohol was making Seoho feel almost confident. When Geonhak finally got up to retrieve Dongju, Seoho didn’t want Youngjo to leave his side. The couple walked away, Dongju sending not-so-subtle winks and blown kisses to Seoho, and Youngjo stayed with Seoho.

“Do you want me to take you home?” There was a very visible flush on Youngjo’s face, “Just to make sure you get in safely,”

“Yeah,” Seoho smiled, “I’d like that,”

“Should I call a cab?”

“We can, but my place isn’t far from here. We could walk, maybe? And sober up?”

“Lead the way,” Seoho, in a move that surprised him, grabbed Youngjo’s hand and began walking. When he noticed that the older was staring at their intertwined fingers, Seoho laughed slightly.

“It’s for balance,” Seoho turned to smile at Youngjo, and the older smiled back, squeezing their hands. They walked in silence for a little bit, and Seoho was in awe of the intimacy of it all. The air was crisp, but Seoho felt warm from the alcohol and Youngjo’s body heat. Where their hands were clasped it felt like an inferno.

“Were you in love with Keonhee?” Youngjo’s question took him by surprise.

“I guess a little,” It was the first time Seoho had ever admitted that, “But it’s tough when he was always someone I could never have,”

“That’s the worst feeling,”

“Have you experienced that too?” Youngjo looked Seoho in the eyes.

“Yeah, something like that,” They walked in silence for a little bit longer. Seoho could feel himself becoming soberer, but the situation felt intoxicating to him all the same. Seoho could see the top of his apartment building when Youngjo broke the silence again.

“Did you ever kiss him?”

“Once. We were both drunk. I told him it didn’t happen because we would never be able to keep each other in that way,”

“Do you still want to kiss him?”

“No,” Seoho tried to work up his never, “No, there’s someone else I want to kiss now,” He came to a stop in front of his building, “This is my place. Thanks for walking me home, Youngjo,” He went to let go of the other’s hand, but Youngjo quickly pulled him in closer, placing a soft kiss on Seoho’s lips.

“You can tell me if I’ve misinterpreted everything,” Youngjo licked his lips, “But can I come in?” Seoho leaned up and kissed Youngjo again, a little harder this time. He wanted to say something, but he was afraid words would ruin the mood. He pulled Youngjo by the hand and pulled him into the building. He was happy that it was so late and that there was no one walking around the building because they couldn’t keep their hands off each other in the elevator. Seoho felt giddy and light; he felt like he deserved this tiny bit of happiness.

He let Youngjo into his apartment, and Seoho had barely locked the door behind them when the older had him pressed against the wall, mouth over his. It was exhilarating, and Seoho had never felt so desired before. He kissed Youngjo back with vigour, trying to convey so much without saying anything. He tried to lead the older to the couch, his bed, anywhere but the wall, but Youngjo was keen to take control of the situation. Seoho was kept pushed up against the wall, but his mind was elsewhere.

Eventually, Youngjo took mercy on Seoho and moved him over to the couch. Youngjo fell back and Seoho fell with him, straddling the other’s lap. From this new angle, Seoho was able to kiss Youngjo deeper, harder. Youngjo’s fingers dug into his hips, moving upwards under his shirt. They broke apart briefly, panting for air. Seoho looked into Youngjo’s eyes, quickly and loving, before leaning back in to kiss him again, slow and filthy. He could feel Youngjo playing with the hem of his shirt, fingers moving to pull it over the younger’s head. Seoho broke the kiss quickly to let Youngjo pull the material off of him. Shirtless, Seoho moved forward to capture Youngjo’s lips again, but the older had other plans.

Seoho felt breathless as Youngjo’s lips found his collar bone, his neck, his jawline. He was exposed, and moved to place his own hands underneath the older’s shirt. His fingers grasped at the soft expanse of his stomach, could feel the light rippling of muscles. Seoho wanted so badly to be chest to chest, skin on skin, with Youngjo, but he knew the other would let that happen in time. He allowed Youngjo to steal his air, his space. He was brought further into Youngjo’s being, as the older kissed and nipped across the exposed stretch of neck presented to him, moving down to the soft skin of Seoho’s shoulder. The younger could hear the sounds he was making, could feel himself coming undone by Youngjo’s ministrations. Seoho found himself wanting the feeling to stay together, was just allowing his mind to go blank with pleasure.

Then suddenly it was all gone.

He was pressed against Youngjo, and the older started tracking down the length of Seoho’s back. The younger’s breath hitched, this time due to anxiety, fear, uncertainty. He had forgotten that he was claimed by the unknown, had forgotten that this was a conversation they needed to have.

“I can’t do this, Seoho,” Youngjo’s words faltered, his hand stopped moving

“Youngjo,”

“You have a soulmate,”

“Yes, but,”

“You’re claimed,” Youngjo cut him off, “Of course you are,”

“Please listen to me,” Seoho could hear the pleading in his voice, “It’s not what you’re thinking,”

“I knew you were too good to be true,” Youngjo pushed him off

“Youngjo, please.” Seoho chased Youngjo as the older walked towards the door, “Just let me explain,”

“I can’t, Seoho,” Youngjo took a step outside, each second passing another crack in Seoho’s heart, “You’re no better than me,” it was said as little more than a whisper, but Seoho wanted to take in every last moment. They locked eyes, Youngjo’s glassy. Seoho could feel the sting of tears in his own.

“Don’t leave me,” Seoho’s voice broke, and the dam broke and he could feel his cheeks grow wet. He could hear Youngjo sigh, broken and shaky, and the door closed. Seoho found himself alone in his apartment. The spaces where Youngjo filled just seconds before were now filled with shattered tension and stale arm. Seoho could feel the spots on his neck where Youngjo’s teeth had been, knew that the remains of their wrecked intimacy would stain him for days; a reminder of what Seoho wasn’t allowed to have. Staggering, malfunctioning, Seoho blindly searched for his phone. The bright screen happily showed the time as three in the morning. His lock screen mocked him; a picture of Keonhee and him smiled up to the rejected man. Seoho wasn’t even sure if he was still allowed to have that, but it was the only thing he had that he could cling to.

Shaking, he unlocked his phone, going through the motions to Keonhee’s contact. He tried to not look through all the messages shared between him and Youngjo. Trembling, he called Keonhee. He knew the younger would be asleep, but Seoho knew he had to try, he had to do something. The phone rang and rang, until the familiar lit of Keonhee’s voicemail resonated in his ears.

“Keon,” Seoho sounded wrecked, “I know you’re asleep. You’re probably with Hwanwoong, aren’t you? I don’t want to bother you this late? This early? But please, Keon, when you get this can you come over? You know how to get in. If you need to bring Hwanwoong do it, but right now I really need my best friend. I just really need you,” His voice broke, “I just don’t know what to do. I’m sorry for bothering you. Just, please,”

He ended his message, and fell onto his couch. He felt numb, but overcome with emotions at the same time. He felt dizzy, ruined. Cold and broken, tears covered his cheeks and pillows as he closed them. All he knew how to do was cry and sob and let his depression wash over him as the alcohol in his system lulled him to a restless sleep.

* * *

_“Do you know why you’re here?” the school counsellor sighed, sitting across from Seoho in the tiny office. Seoho, seventeen, nodded his head. He knew exactly why he was sitting in the cramped space. He knew he was a difficult student, but he felt like it wasn’t his fault._

_“It would help if you told me in words why you’re here,”_

_“Because I’m hard to deal with?” Seoho was nonchalant, he was used to this._

_“Your teachers are concerned,” the woman began, “Because by all accounts you’re a brilliant student. Your test scores are high, you’re academically astounding,”_

_“But my personality is bad,” Seoho shrugged. No one had ever understood him, and he didn’t think the counsellor would change that now._

_“There’s a concern that you’re not getting along with your classmates,”_

_“They don’t like me and I don’t like them,”_

_“You can’t just refuse to work with others, Seoho,”_

_“I’m not going to let my work and my sleep schedule suffer because I’m being forced to work with people who don’t want to do anything,”_

_“Seoho, working with others is an important part of life,”_

_“And I’ll be happy to work with others when my grades aren’t at risk,”_

_“Seoho,” the counsellor leaned forward, trying to make her gaze look less annoyed. Seoho could see right through her, “What’s really going on here? We both know that this isn’t just about your grades,”_

_“Like I said,” Seoho felt exasperated. This was just another adult who refused to listen or remember anything, “I don’t like them and they don’t like me,”_

_“Our reports say that the only person you’re friendly with is a tenth grader,”_

_“Keonhee,” Seoho confirmed, “We’ve known each other our entire lives,”_

_“So, what’s different about him? Why can’t you see that your peers are often as nice as he is?”_

_“Seriously?” Seoho was incredulous, “You’ve been the guidance counsellor here for years and no one told you about what the fights and arguments I get in are about? Shouldn’t that be something you know by default?”_

_“I know what they’ve been about,”_

_“And yet there’s still a question about why I don’t get along with my classmates?”_

_“We feel like we don’t have the entire story,”_

_“Here’s the full story,” Seoho was angry, “Every day since I was a kid they’ve all decided that I was different. I’ve known some of them since kindergarten and nothing has changed,”_

_“And how are you different?”_

_“My soulmate mark. It encompasses my entire back,” the guidance counsellor opened her mouth in shock, then completely shut it again, tight lipped, “And that coupled with the fact that I don’t care if my soulmate is also a boy,”_

_“Well, that doesn’t make you different,”_

_“It does to them,” Seoho knew that she wouldn’t understand. All adults were the same when it came to him, “Anyways, even if they weren’t like that to me everyone knows that I’m smart and they know if I do everything then they’ll get a better mark. And I know that if they do anything I’ll get a worse mark,”_

_“I’ll put a note on your file about working with others,” She tapped her fingers against the desk, “But we have to work on your interactions with your classmates. Have you tried seeing things from their point of view?”_

_“Why do I have to put in the work to understand them?” Seoho felt exhausted, “They’re the ones that make my life difficult. The only thing I’ve done wrong was be born,” Seoho didn’t want to show weakness in front of the counsellor, but he felt like he was going to cry. “No matter what I say, for my entire life, I’ve been the one who needs to change my behaviour. If I talk out, even to defend myself, then I’m the only one who needs to apologize. Even if someone else started it. So, no, I’m not going to try to see things from their point of view. Not when you and the rest of the world have decided that my point of view doesn’t matter,”_

_“Seoho,” the guidance counsellor tried to push a box of tissues in front of him. Seoho tried not to nice. “I just don’t want this to limit how others view you through university and beyond,”_

_“And are you going to do anything besides put a note on my file and tell me to change my perspective?” Seoho wasn’t even surprised at the counsellor’s stunned silence, “Because I can be as understanding as humanly possible and they’ll just be the same,” the counsellor looked like she was trying to find the right words to console the student, but he refused to be placated. “Are we done here? I have work I need to finish,”_

_The counsellor just let him go. Seoho inwardly scoffed; no one was ever going to actually listen to his side, or do anything beyond tell him to do better. He shouldn’t have to get along with his classmates either, it wouldn’t matter in the end. It was going to be him and Keonhee until the end of time. Or at least until Keonhee found his soulmate. Then Seoho was going to be alone. Forever._

* * *

“Are you sure he’s alright?” An unfamiliar voice woke Seoho. His eyes felt heavy and swollen, burning from the tears he shed the night before.

“I didn’t say he was alright,” and that was Keonhee’s voice, a blessing to Seoho’s ears, “I said he was alive,” Seoho stirred enough for his friend to take notice, and Keonhee was a whirlwind _rushing_ towards him, “Hey, Seo. Are you okay?” Seoho opened his eyes to look at the younger. There was concern in Keonhee’s gaze, a large hand rubbing softly on Seoho’s bare shoulder.

“I fucked up, Keonhee,” His voice sounded hoarse, a symptom of the alcohol and crying, “I tried to grab something that would make me happy, and I fucked up,” And then he was crying again, anxiety and despair escaping his body the only way it could. Keonhee climbed onto the sofa, taking the older into his arms. Seoho had no choice but to sob and sob and sob.

Through tears, he tried to explain to Keonhee everything. That he had gone out drinking with Youngjo. That he had walked him home. How Youngjo had kissed him, and how Seoho took him into his apartment. How everything was going great, how he felt so good in Youngjo’s arms. And then Youngjo had seen his soulmate mark, colours bursting down his back, and then he left. And Seoho couldn’t do anything about it. Keonhee whispered to him that everything was going to be alright, but Seoho wasn’t so sure.

Keonhee forced Seoho to take a shower, and fresh clothes were neatly laid out for him on his bed when he emerged. Seoho didn’t feel better, only cleaner, but he was grateful to Keonhee nonetheless. He exited his bedroom, steam still exiting the en suite, to see Keonhee talking to an unfamiliar man. He cleared his throat, and the couple parted, looking up at him. The stranger stood up, clearly uncomfortable. Keonhee’s wrung his hands together, trying to find the right words, but none came.

“I’m guessing you’re Hwanwoong?” Seoho ended up having to break the silence.

“Yes, yes, I am. Hello,” The stranger, Hwanwoong, awkwardly walked towards Seoho, a hand outstretched to greet the older. Seoho shook it, unsure. Hwanwoong was shorter than he anticipated, a clear contrast to Keonhee’s stature. He was uncomfortable right now, but Seoho was sure that the older was generally confident in regular life. His clothes were put together nicely; he was handsome, Seoho decided.

“I wish you could have met me when I was happy,” Seoho stated as the handshake ended.

“Seoho,” Keonhee interjected, “You said in the message that I could bring him,”

“Yes, I did. It doesn’t mean that I can’t wish he could have met me differently,” They all laughed, but Seoho could feel the uneasiness. While he was in the shower, one of them had made coffee, and Seoho eagerly drank it. Even if his heart wasn’t in a million pieces, he still had a wicked hangover.

“Seoho,” Hwanwoong was more confident with caffeine in his system, “Maybe you should focus on finding your soulmate. It won’t do you much good to just mope about a guy who won’t listen,” Keonhee gave Hwanwoong a pointed look, and the other just shrugged, “What? It’s the truth. He’s heartbroken right now and I get it, but sitting here doing nothing won’t help anything. Might as well be productive,”

“And how do you expect me to find him?” Seoho wasn’t sure what to make of the shorter male. They had only just met and Seoho was already unsure of the self-assured bluntness Hwanwoong possessed.

“The internet. Where did you meet your soulmate? You could probably find him all over again,”

“Well,” Seoho took another sip of his coffee, “I didn’t meet him, exactly. Didn’t Keonhee fill you in?” At the shake of Hwanwoong’s head, Seoho went into telling the story of what happened on the train. After the trauma of the previous night, that story felt easy on Seoho’s tongue, the words passing his lips easily.

“Okay then,” Hwanwoong clapped his hands together, “That makes things easier,”

“It does?” Keonhee didn’t sound convinced. Seoho smiled to himself; their relationship was sill so new that the couple weren’t quite in synch yet.

“Of course! We need to start on a university forum. There’s a popular one, an anonymous one. What if you posted there, Seoho?” The younger beamed, and Seoho paused mid sip. The idea wasn’t horrible, and made a lot of sense. The more caffeine he put into his system, the more confident he felt.

“Well,” He looked over the top of his mug, “I have to say, Keonhee. Your soulmate is definitely more of a critical thinker than you are,” He got up to grab his laptop amidst Keonhee’s words of shock and hurt. Seoho knew his best friend, knew that he would get over this slight jab. Hwanwoong was laughing hysterically, and Seoho thought that maybe, just maybe, he would get along with his best friend’s soulmate.

Sitting back down, Seoho has Hwanwoong show him which forum he should be posting on. Seoho creates an account, and a username to keep his name private, and the trio work on making the perfect post. There’s several revisions, and a few silenced interjections from Keonhee about ‘making it more romantic’, but finally Seoho has his post.

**Trying to Find My Soulmate**

_ Posted by SquirrelBoy96 at 8:57 AM on XX-XX-XXXX _

_Hello fellow students,_

_On XX-XX-XXXX, while on the train to the university, I was pressed up against the chest of a very well-dressed boy. We both got off at the university station, and he quickly apologized to me. Later I figured out that that action had activated the soulmate mark on my back. That should mean that someone out there activated a soulmate mark on their chest and they’re equally as confused as me as to who their soulmate is._

_If this sounds like you please respond and we can arrange a time to meet to make sure._

_Thanks. I hope you’re out there._

Seoho hoped that this plan would work. The hours passed and Keonhee and Hwanwoong left, leaving the older to obsessively refresh the page for a response. He knew that it was a long shot that his soulmate would see the post and respond, let alone see it that day, but his anxiety was getting the better of him. So, he refreshed and refreshed the page, but the only responses were from people telling him not to give up, and wishing him luck in finding their other half. Seoho briefly wonders what this experience would be like if this had happened to him before the invention of the internet. Would he have had to take out a section in the newspaper classifieds? Would he have had to give a radio statement? A billboard? Flyers?

He was getting ready to go to bed when he refreshed the page one last time. There, in the bottom of a list of responses, was a small message.

**PlsRavn**

_That sounds like me actually. I’ll send you a DM_

There was, in fact, a notification in his messages. There was a message from the commenter saying that he thought it was him. They confirmed a day and time and location, and Seoho went to asleep anxious and excited. He hadn’t thought about Youngjo all day.

* * *

_“Do you know what you want your soulmate to look like?” a seventeen-year-old Keonhee has his head on Seoho’s knee. The older is trying to study, has a midterm coming up, but the younger is an omnipresent distraction._

_“I’ve never really thought about it,” Seoho relents, placing his book next to him on the floor, “I mean, I don’t have a choice in the matter so why should I fantasize?”_

_“Because it’s romantic, Seoho,” Keonhee draws out his words, trying desperately to get his point across._

_“But how will you even become close to guessing? You have no control over this, Keonhee. You’re far more likely to be wrong than right,”_

_“Because it’s romantic, Seoho,” Keonhee repeats, removing his head from the older’s lap. “You have absolutely no sense of romanticism,”_

_“Nope,” Seoho moves to pick up his book once more, eager to continue studying, but Keonhee just swats it away. The older sighs; he knows Keonhee isn’t going to go down without a fight. He quickly weights his options in his head, then decides that he’s probably better to play along for now. “Have you thought about it Keonhee?”_

_“Of course,” the younger nods furiously, “I have it all mapped out in my head,” Keonhee starts counting on his fingers, the way one might list out the day’s tasks “I’d like them to be shorter than me. That shouldn’t be too hard but I think it would be weird if they were taller than me, you know? They have to have a breathtaking smile. The kind where their eyes crinkle up when they’re truly happy,” Just when Seoho thinks Keonhee’s done, the younger takes a breath and continues, “And they can’t be boring! There is nothing I would hate more than someone who would agree with me all the time and never allow me to think,”_

_“So, you want someone to fight you? Is that what love is for you?”_

_“It’s not about fighting. It’s about healthy debate between a couple,”_

_“We fight all the time, Keonhee? Are you in love with me?” Seoho is teasing, but there’s a part of him that’s hopeful. Hopeful and delirious._

_“Of course not,” Keonhee turns a delicious shade of red; Seoho has to pretend he isn’t mesmerized. “We both know that we’re not soulmates so there’s no use pretending. You should think about what you want your soulmate to look like, Seoho. It’ll make you feel warm and fuzzy and happy,”_

_“I’ll think about thinking about it,” Seoho smiles up at Keonhee, but all he’s imagining is the way Keonhee’s head fit perfectly on his leg. How he’s the perfect height to hug the younger, with a face that could bury right into the crook of his neck. How he and Keonhee bicker, but always love each other regardless. Part of him wants Keonhee to love him, just a little bit. It’s a hopeful part of him. Hopeful and delirious._

* * *

Seoho had spent far too long picking out his outfit. He had put so many shirts up to his body, tried out different colours, chosen far too many pairs of pants, that he had begun to feel like the teenaged protagonist in a made for TV movie. Ravn, as the other side of the DM had introduced himself, was very possibly, most likely, his soulmate. He wanted to look good. He wanted his soulmate to not think he was a waste of time.

Seoho wondered what his other half could be like. The name ‘Ravn’ evoked so many emotions. He imagined someone intimidating, in a tall, dark, and handsome way. He already knew that his soulmate was well dressed, and that would only add to the alluring, mysterious charm that Ravn must have. Seoho really couldn’t believe his luck. He had wracked his brain trying to remember any detail about the man’s face beyond the soft smile, but all he could picture was Youngjo. He knew that his soulmate wasn’t Youngjo, knew that his soulmate would be better for him that Youngjo, but still the image of the older remained. Once he met Ravn, Seoho knew he would finally be able to get the other out of his system.

Seoho left his apartment, finally satisfied with how he looked. Confidently, quickly, he walked through the streets to get to the train station. His mind was on one-track; he couldn’t even bring himself to imagine lives for the people on the street. Entering the train, his heart fluttered. Did Ravn have this same feeling every time he entered the train? Had his soulmate looked for him every time as well? The questions circled his mind until he made it to the area of the quad where he had agreed to meet up with Ravn. He stood and waited, until a figure appeared in the distance. His heart was in his throat until the figure became close enough to see.

It was Youngjo; Seoho felt like he was going to vomit.

The older studied him from a distance, before daring to take a step forward. Every step he took shattered Seoho’s heart more. He didn’t want Youngjo to come any closer. Today was supposed to be a happy day for him, and the other had just appeared to make it worse.

“Hey,” Youngjo sounded small, not meeting Seoho’s gaze.

“Hi,”

“How are you?”

“Fine,”

“Why are you here?”

“Meeting up with my soulmate,” Seoho knew it was petty, but he felt he had deserved the right to be, “Why are you here?”

“Meeting someone who may be my soulmate,” Seoho could hear Youngjo swallow, “I didn’t think I’d see you here. I’ll just go stand somewhere else,” The older walked past him, and Seoho held his breath. The entire exchange was awkward, and Seoho wanted nothing more than to go back to before. Go back to when they could just be friends and everything about them was easy. He had been too bold that night, too heartbroken. And now they were both here, standing at a distance waiting for someone else who could potentially be their soulmate.

Suddenly, like a flash of lightning in the prairie sky, something clicked in his head. The gears of his mind were turning alongside the anxiety in his stomach. Seoho spun around to face Youngjo, scared that if he opened his mouth the butterflies would escape. He had never dared to dream that this could be a possibility.

“Youngjo,” Seoho called. The older lifted his head, and slowly, too slowly, started walking towards the younger. Seoho wasn’t sure if there was hope in his eyes or not. Had Youngjo also realized the possibility presented towards them? The trepidation in the other’s manners told him that he didn’t. Every step forward was another beat of Seoho’s heart, and his feet moved by themselves to meet Youngjo halfway. It was step by step by step until they were in front of one another. If Seoho lifted himself up, tilted his head at just the right angle, he could kiss the confusion off the other’s face.

“Youngjo,” Seoho wanted to hold the other’s hand, hold his own breath, “Are you Ravn?” Emotion swirled in Youngjo’s eyes, bewilderment and fear at the forefront. Seoho stood, just waiting for an answer. He watched as the silent shock on the older’s face turned into the ghost of a smile. Slowly, too slowly, Youngjo lifted his hand to Seoho’s face, using the pad of his thumb to stroke the soft skin there. Seoho leaned into the touch.

“Hi,” Youngjo was breathless.

“Hi,” Seoho found that he was breathless too.

* * *

_Seoho threw his phone onto the bed. Keonhee had just texted him, asking for help with his earth sciences homework. He had told Keonhee a thousand times that he would have issues with the course; the younger never was the best with science. He had tried to point out a psychology class that would be easier for him, but Keonhee had insisted that he had been told that this was the best course for him to take. Seoho sighed. When would Keonhee learn that there was no one who understood him better than he did?_

_Seoho loved Keonhee, he really did, but sometimes the younger was exasperating. They were already in university, and the younger still somehow found a way to be childish. Seoho knew that he was being harsh, knew that Keonhee wasn’t making him feel like this on purpose, but he was just tired. Someday, Keonhee was going to have to stand on his own two feet without him._

_Seoho had his own tests to study for, his own projects to finish. He didn’t really have the spare time to spend teaching Keonhee something. That hadn’t stopped him from agreeing to meet Keonhee the next day in the library; Seoho had never been able to deny Keonhee anything ever. Their friendship had always been like that. Seoho gave and gave and gave, and while it was reciprocal, sometimes it felt like Keonhee would just take and take and take._

_Deep down, so deep that Seoho had never been able to admit it to himself, Seoho was in love with the younger. Would do anything for him. Although logic stated that they weren’t soulmates, there was a part of him that demanded that they break the mold. Who needed true love when they already had each other? Here as well, logic dictated that Keonhee would find his soulmate quickly, eventually, while Seoho would be alone._

_Slowly, quietly, Seoho got ready to go to sleep. In his mirror, through his pyjamas, Seoho could see the unmistakable black hole that was his soulmate mark. It haunted him daily. He knew that it was supposed to be a blessing, knew that it meant his perfect match was out there somewhere. To Seoho, however, it had also become a curse. A blight that would never change colour due to its absurdity. This soulmate mark, he had long since decided, would remain an affliction because the likelihood of someone touching him there was not something that would happen any time soon. Brushing his teeth, he reminded himself that rare was not better; it was blasphemy._

_Climbing into his bed, he already dreaded the day he was going have when he woke up. He dreaded getting dressed and having to find a shirt that would make him feel covered and comfortable. He dreaded teaching Keonhee a subject that he had warned him to avoid Most of all, he dreaded getting on the train. He dreaded it being busy, and having to press his back up against a stranger in a way that made him feel vulnerable and small._

* * *

They ended up back at Seoho’s apartment, and the younger felt an immediate sense of déjà vu. This time, however, there were no harsh kisses or backs pressed against walls. There were only soft touches and whispers, hands holding hands and an understanding that this was destiny. This was going to be a happy ever after for both of them.

Thumb stroking the back of his hand, Seoho led Youngjo to his bedroom, led him to the full-length mirror. A kiss to the top of Seoho’s head, and Youngjo let go of his hand, moving to take off his shirt. This is what Seoho had wanted, during their last night together, and now it was more than he imagined. Youngjo’s chest was toned, yes, but above all there was a cacophony of colours adorning him. Slowly, gently, Seoho reached his hand up to trace the patterns. His thumb swiped blue, traced red. His eyes followed the yellow, held steady on purple. There was a splash of pink where Youngjo’s heart was. Seoho wanted to kiss it, so, softly, he did. Youngjo’s fingers combed through the hair on the back of his head, at the nape of his neck, showing that he appreciated the action.

Then it was Seoho’s turn to bare himself for Youngjo. He had always thought that he would feel vulnerable when the time for this came, but instead he feels empowered. Gone is the drunken courage from nights previous, and there in him was a quiet courage fueled by all the emotions he was feeling for Youngjo. He pulled off his shirt, and turned around for the older to have a better look. He could see Youngjo in the mirror, taking in the painting before him, yet he didn’t feel exposed. He could feel Youngjo’s fingers caressing his back, ten fingers for a myriad of colours. He wondered what colours drew his eyes the most. Youngjo leaned forward, dragging his lips in the expanse between Seoho’s neck and shoulders in a response. It was the colour of his skin that entranced Youngjo; Seoho, without the rainbow, was just as captivating as with.

Hands encircled Seoho’s waist as Youngjo drew him back so they were flush against each other. He wasn’t trying to mimic how they would have fit together on the train, but trying to show how they are able to intertwine together now. Youngjo was draped slightly over Seoho’s body, and they just looked at each other. Seoho decided they looked good together, but he couldn’t decide if that was an objective truth or just his view through the love-tinted glasses he seemed to be wearing. The older leaned his nose into Seoho and began pressing soft kisses into his skin, into his hair.

“I’m glad it’s you,” Youngjo whispers. Seoho turns in Youngjo’s arms, in his soulmate’s arms, and presses his face into the coloured expanse of his skin. He presses kisses there, the older’s arms bringing him in impossibly tighter. He can feel Youngjo start to move, so he slides his feet to keep up. He falls, in more ways than one, in Youngjo’s arms onto the bed. He tilts his head, allows Youngjo to capture his lips between his. They’ve done this before, but the stakes have changed. Youngjo is no longer just the boy in his literature class, his attractive project partner, his friend, but his soulmate.

The thought of not having to look anymore overwhelms him as Youngjo holds him close. Their hands are on each other’s skin, in the other’s hair, tongues dancing. They kiss and they kiss and they kiss until their lips are numb and swollen. They’re both tired, and Seoho wants nothing more than to never leave his bed, to never leave Youngjo’s arms. He feels touch starved, and Seoho supposes it’s because he’s wanted the touch of his soulmate for his entire life. The stiffness of his jeans, and the roughness of the denim that also encases Youngjo’s legs gives him pause. Shyly, quietly, he asks Youngjo if he wants to borrow a pair of sweat pants. His face is warm but Youngjo’s lips murmuring a soft ‘yes’ against his skin is cooling.

Seoho stands and grabs two pairs of sweat pants from his drawer. They change, neither daring to look at the other. It occurs to Seoho that he could be allowed to look; eventually their bodies will belong fully to the other. That afternoon, however, feels too crisp and sacred to break. As Seoho descends back into bed, back into Youngjo’s arms, there’s a sense of peace that surrounds him. He turns around, so his back is flush to Youngjo’s chest, and the older holds him. Seoho brings Youngjo’s hands up to his lips, leaving a reverent kiss.

“Where have you been all my life?” He whispers to himself, to his soulmate, to the love in the air.

* * *

_Seoho is six years old and digging a hole in the sand of the playground. He had heard someone on the television say that if you dig far enough you’ll make it to the other side of the earth. He had also heard another person say that there was lava and volcanoes inside the earth. Seoho wanted to know if they were both right or if one of them was lying. When he had told his father this, he had laughed and told Seoho he would have to test his hypothesis. Seoho had never heard that word before, so he was muttering it over and over as he dug. The word felt big and heavy and important in his mouth._

_“What’cha doing?” A voice comes from beside him. A boy, around the same age, is looking inquisitively at Seoho’s hole._

_“Digging a hole,” Seoho responds._

_“Why?” The boy sits down across from Seoho. He starts digging too, out of childlike instinct._

_“I wanna see what’s at the middle of the Earth,” Seoho smiles, “I’m testing a hypothesis,”_

_“Wow,” The word is drawn out. Seoho turns to look at his dad, sitting on a bench a few feet away. His parents were trying to teach him about how to introduce himself. Seoho felt too shy to shake the other boy's hands; he ends up smiling at the other, hands fiddling in his lap._

_“I’m Seoho,” The other boy extends his hand for a shake, but pulls it back into his body._

_“I’m Youngjo,” The other gives a toothy grin, with a little gap to show where a baby tooth has fallen out. Seoho looks at his new friend. His hair is slightly curly, his eyes are kind. He’s wearing a faded t-shirt. Seoho thinks that Youngjo might be good at sports, he looks like the kids who love to play soccer during recess. He also notices, peaking up from the front of his shirt, the distinctive black of a soulmate mark._

_“You have a mark!” Seoho exclaim, putting his finger out to point at the other boy, before quickly lowering his hand because his parents had always taught him it’s rude to point._

_“Yeah,” the other is as nonchalant as a child can be. “One day I’m going to meet someone who matches me,”_

_“I have one too, on my back,” Seoho is excited, He turns, shifting in the sand, so Youngjo can see it peeking out over the fabric._

_“Wow,” Youngjo says, and repeats over and over. The two go back to digging, Seoho explaining about how someone on the television must be lying. Youngjo agrees; it’s very important to find the liar. Lying is bad after all. They dig for a few moments, until a thought distracts Youngjo. “Hey, Seoho?” Youngjo is eager, “What if our marks match?”_

_“What?” Seoho stops digging at that._

_“What if our marks match? We could find out right now and be full of colour forever!” The other is excited. It’s contagious, and Seoho finds himself intrigued by the idea._

_“We’re gonna test another hypothesis?” Seoho feels like his gonna explode. He felt so overwhelmed by all the science he was going to do._

_“Yeah! I’ll give you a hug and then we’ll know!” Youngjo crawls behind Seoho, hole forgotten, sand flying everywhere. They get close, real close, and then Seoho’s dad is calling for him, telling him it’s time to go._

_“We didn’t get to test the hypothesis,” Seoho is sad, but Youngjo is still happy._

_“Well, if our marks match we’ll find out one day, right?” His eyes are hopeful._

_“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right,” Seoho runs towards his dad, turning back around to wave goodbye to Youngjo. “Bye Youngjo! Nice to meet’cha!”_

_“Bye!” Youngjo waves back. Seoho can’t wait to go back to the park, to see Youngjo again, so they can find out. There are more pressing concerns to his six-year old brain though. He pouts to his dad; he never got to figure out who was lying on television._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! As always, I accept all forms of critique in the comments. 
> 
> If you wish to interact with my chaotic ass, you can find me on twitter (@sakurahaiku)!


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